


How in the Holy F-!

by pherryt



Series: Supernatural CODA Collection [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 14.01 CODA, Angst, Nick POV, fixing a plothole, resolve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 04:19:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16319036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: There's no way Nick should be alive and kicking. Sam and the rest are suspicious of him and Nick can't blame them.He's suspicious too.





	How in the Holy F-!

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. there are good things and bad things about the premiere. But what stuck at me the most was how much NICK didn't make sense.
> 
> so it's been bothering me, okay? So here you go. Me trying to make sense of it. Plus, i always felt bad for Nick himself.

Nick stared up bewilderingly at Sam Winchester.

Why was he here? Hadn’t he done his Heavenly duty? He  _had_ been in Heaven…

Hadn’t he?

Pain hit him as he tried to stand, Sam flinching back at his movement, and he doubled over and fell to his knees, clutching at his sides and gasping hard.

Then it all came flooding back.

He had been in Heaven, though as the memories returned, he was sure he didn’t actually belong there. Lucifer had kept his promise – they’d found the men who’d killed Nicks family and they had  _destroyed_ them. Content with that rightful vengeance, Nick had floated in the recesses of his own mind, slowly burning up, burning away until the pain became so much he could no longer ignore Lucifer or the world around him.

And the things Lucifer did…

The things Lucifer had tried to do…

The Winchesters had done what Nick had failed to do – they’d said no. it had made Lucifer so angry that he’d begun to torture Nick. It was too late to say no, he’d already said yes. And Lucifer had made Nick his plaything.

After all, he didn’t care what truly happened to Nick, or to Nick’s body. It was Sam he wanted and it had been Sam he’d gotten.

Sam may have said yes, but Lucifer had known from the start – and therefore Nick had too – that it was all a ploy.

The fact that the world was still standing something like 8 years later was proof that the ploy had worked. The cost? Nick could read the cost in Sam’s face and it hadn’t been good.

But Sam, despite the attempt to hide his fear at the sight of Nick moving, was still crouching down to check on him, and it was then that Nick realized he was sobbing, the words “I’m sorry” being choked out again and again and again as he curled around his wound.

“Lucifer?” Sam asked, his voice cold and stern and disbelieving, a thread of hope in his eyes despite the wariness that held his body taut.

Nick shook his head.

“No, no, no, no…” He gasped, choking on his tears. “I’m so sorry, Sam. I’m sorry for what he did, what he’s done.”

“Nick?” Sam whispered softly, eyes growing wide.

Nick barely managed a nod and then Sam was grasping his shoulders and helping him to sit up. Nick cried out at the pain, Sam kicking the archangel blade over to the bloodied kid standing shell-shocked behind him.

“Sam? What’s going on?” the kid asked.

“This is impossible,” Sam whispered.

“You’re telling me,” Nick groaned, the tears subsiding – for now, eyes still burning, waiting and ready to let loose the flood gates once more. He didn’t want to cry any more. He’d had enough crying and wallowing for a lifetime. It was what had allowed Lucifer to get him. He didn’t want to ever be that weak again.

But then, the things Nick wanted never mattered much, did it? All he’d wanted was a home and a family and that had been torn away from him and left him so grief bound he’d done the unthinkable.

Sam helped him stand and Nick passed out.

When he came too, groggily, he’d been laid out across the backseat of a car, his legs scrunched up uncomfortably, his head killing him and his side aching terribly – more so with every bump and imperfection in the road.

It was quiet – the kind filled with immeasurable tension and grief. The only sounds was the car moving over the road and a radio turned so low that Nick wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t imagining it.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” a voice said softly. The boy, perhaps?

“It’s not your fault, Jack,” Sam replied.

“But it is! If I’d just listened to you and Dean and Castiel then none of this would have happened. Lucifer wouldn’t have stolen my Grace and Dean would never have said yes to Michael,” Jack said mournfully.

“You couldn’t have known that would happen. And yeah, we didn’t like that you were talking with Lucifer, but Jack, he _was_ your father. It was only natural you’d be curious about him and… as much as I hate to admit it, you had to learn the truth of what he was on your own,” Sam said. “Us telling you what he was… it’s not as strong as seeing it for yourself. I’m just sorry that he wasn’t what you’d hoped.”

Nick blinked in confusion as he listened to the heart to heart going on. He felt that if they knew he was even awake, they wouldn’t be talking quite so freely, but he didn’t have the energy to make a sound. Already his eyes were drooping, despite the pain he was in, and he passed out once more.

He woke when something slammed and loud voices approached.

“- it’s not possible, Sam. If Nick’s soul still resided in Lucifer, I would have known – “

That voice was familiar. Nick frowned and struggled to open his eyes. Something creaked and he was manhandled out of the car, the abruptness of it causing him to cry out and clutch at his wound.

He was shoved against the car and someone yanked his hands from his wound, slapping cuffs around his wrists. He hissed as the wound was jostled and finally he pried his own eyes open.

Unmistakable blue eyes glared at him with narrow focus, chapped lips a tight line across his face. Castiel’s gaze was piercing and uncomfortable, Nick struggling to maintain it knowing he was being judged and found wanting.

Castiel rocked back, eyes widening in surprise.

“He’s not Lucifer.”

There was a collective sigh that came from all around him and Nick twisted to see who else was there.

Sam, Castiel, Bobby – he knew them. Mary he’d seen the image of in Sam’s mind, hazy memories of photographs. But the rest were strangers to him.

“How is that possible?” Bobby asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

“We don’t know. Dean killed Lucifer with an Archangel blade – Lucifer’s vessel shouldn’t even be _alive_ , much less inhabited by its original soul,” Sam said, running a hand through his hair.

“And where’s Dean?” someone asked. A young girl who stood by Jack with familiarity.

Nobody answered her. Sam looked away and Jack looked down, guilt plain on his face. But it was Castiel’s that was fascinating to watch transform. From what Nick remembered of the angel, he was pretty impassive, Lucifer straining to get a reaction out of him and failing. But now…

But now his face was worn weary in a way Nick had never seen on another angel. Grief and despair made Castiel’s blue eyes crumple, his shoulders slump deeper than Nick could remember seeing. Even trapped in Holy Fire by a being that could have snapped his fingers and turned Castiel into ash hadn’t doused Castiel’s defiance. He’d stood tall and remained stoic despite the fact that he stood no chance against Lucifer…

And here he was. Still alive, still kicking.

“Okay, look, he _can’t_ be Nick. It’s just not possible,” Sam protested finally. “I’m gonna call Rowena back, and in the meantime, I’m taking precautions.” He paused, looked at Nick and wavered. His mouth opened and Nick cut him off.

“No, don’t apologize or whatever it is you were about to do. Take all the precautions you need,” Nick whispered. “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense. I shouldn’t be here.  I was dead, moved on to my eternal reward – one that I didn’t even deserve – and now I’m here.”

Nick shook his head. “I don’t know if it’s because I’m injured but this… “ he looked down and plucked at his shirt. “This body doesn’t _feel_ right. What if Lucifer is hiding in it somehow? What if I’m just a front that thinks he’s real? Lucifer deals in illusions that can immerse the mind. Maybe I’m not real?”  He swallowed down his panic but couldn’t keep his eyes from widening in his fear.

Sam flinched when Nick spoke, but he nodded firmly. He grabbed Nicks elbow and Castiel grabbed the other and with an escort of several others, Nick was dragged down to the coziest looking dungeon he’d ever seen.

Not that he’d personally seen many other than the things Lucifer had shoved into his mind but…still.

He was cuffed to the bed with enough leeway in the chains to be able to lay down or sit up, but not get out of the Devils’ trap. He didn’t think it likely the bed was always there, so Sam must have called ahead to get it prepared. Still, it was more kindness than Nick had expected, and when the door creaked shut, tears pricked his eyes once more.

* * *

* * *

 

Days later, a small, redheaded woman paused on the threshold of the dungeon and stared at Nick with surprised eyes.

“This is what you wanted me to look at, Sam?” she said, not stepping an inch inside.

“Yeah, well, something isn’t adding up here. We were hoping you could use your powers to somehow gain a bit of insight so we know what we’re dealing with here,” Sam said, gesturing towards Nick.

Nick sat there, unmoving. This would be Rowena then. He’d never met the redheaded witch before but Sam had told him what was coming. It had taken Rowena nearly a week to get there after Sam requested her help and in that time the wound had started healing, though it still pained him.

She tsked and rolled her eyes before finally deigning to step inside the room. The little woman had presence, seeming to be as tall as Sam herself despite her short stature and it impressed Nick even as it scared him.

When she stepped closer, he saw her fingers trembled – the minutest of movements - but trembling none the less.

Oh the lives that Lucifer had touched, the pain and grief he had wrought. Nick grieved for what he had done, for what he had enabled.

Rowena circled Nick carefully. He noticed that she stayed just outside the devil’s trap that surrounded him. It didn’t actually hold him. The cuffs that chained him to the bed did that, and not because they were magic cuffs – at least he assumed they were, given the sigils engraved on them.

He shifted and she froze for a split second before resuming her circuit around him. Heart heavy, he tried not to move too much. He had to be careful around so many people, not that he got many visitors, the fear in their eyes clear.

But in several people that fear was coupled by trauma he could read so clearly in their body languages. Sam he’d expected, but Mary, now Rowena and even the angel Castiel… the guilt he felt at every suppressed shudder or flinch, at each stutter of words, was immense. There was nothing he could do to make up for what he’d caused.

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t at his own hands. None of it would have happened if he’d never said yes.

Rowena stopped and turned to Sam, digging out a little satchel of who knew what – Nick certainly didn’t. “I’ll need some hot water and a mug, if you please, Samuel.” She handed him the little bag and Sam’s eyes lit up with hope.

“You know a spell that can – “

She tsked again and shook her head, interrupting his words. “No, Samuel. I just want some tea. Helps me think.”

His shoulders deflated. “Ah. Right. I’ll get right on that. Just… don’t get too close, okay?”

Rolling her eyes, she patted Sam’s face affectionately. “Of course, my dear.”

Sam nodded and left the room. As his back disappeared through the door, Rowena called after him “Oh and Samuel – “ he paused and looked over his shoulder. She grinned at him. “- I’m loving that scruff you’ve got going.”

And then Nick and Rowena were alone.

He stared at her in trepidation. However he’d come to be here now, he was still human (right?) and she was a powerful witch from everything he’d gleaned. She had a bone to pick with Lucifer (honestly, who didn’t?) and being left alone with her made him nervous.

Still, whatever she did to him, he was sure to have deserved in some way.

He looked her in the eyes, resigned to his fate.

“Oh boyo,” Her eyes softened slightly with sympathy. “You’re just as much traumatized by him as we were, are ye not?”

He inhaled sharply and choked on it, his eyes widening.

“Aye, I can see you, all covered in magic. Every inch of your body – but it’s not angelic magic.” She tapped her lips with a hum and walked around him again. “Nay, yer completely human. The only bit of angel left is the shards of broken grace Lucifer left behind when Dean killed him. And good riddance that,” she said vehemently.

“I’d drink to that, if I had a drink,” Nick finally croaked.

“I’m sure you would,” Rowena acknowledged.

“So… you can figure out how this happened?” Nick asked hopefully.

“Aye, of course I can,” she said with a smug smile.

“Thank God,” he breathed.

“Oh sweetie, I’m afraid God has nothing to do with this. Why do you think we’re _in_ this pickle to start with?” she said sadly, shaking his head. “We helped God personally and look at the thanks we got. He just took off with his sister and left us all behind once again.”

Nick just blinked at her. What the hell was she talking about?

She sighed. “Never mind that now. Let’s take a look at ye.”

Straightening up on his bed, Nick watched Rowena do her thing. She spoke a few words, her hand held out before her, and her eyes flashed purple. The casual show of power made him shiver, uncomfortable to see it. But if it could net them all some answers…

“Hmm…” she hummed and walked around once more, slower than before, her hand still held out, palm straight, fingers pointed up.

Sam returned while she was doing so, a steaming mug dwarfed in his hands as he, too, watched Rowena work. He stepped forward and handed her the mug when she dropped her hand with a sigh.

“Anything?”

“My wee boy was too smart for his own good,” Rowena answered proudly yet tiredly, taking the mug gratefully and sipping daintily.

“You mean this is Crowley’s fault?” Sam asked incredulously.

“Hmmm… partly. This is Nicks original body, bespelled to never rot or waste away, capable of withstanding an archangel’s grace. He made it so resilient, that when Dean killed Lucifer, the body lived and, likely, would have continued on as an empty vessel.” Rowena took another sip. Nick stared in equal parts horror and fascination.

“So how did Nick’s soul wind up back in his body? He should have already moved on to Heaven, Hell or wherever he belonged,” Sam pointed out.

“I had,” Nick reminded him quietly.

Sam looked at him sadly, then back to Rowena. “So now what?”

“Why don’t we call Billie?” she sipped her tea. “Don’t ye think that a Reaper – specifically _the_ Reaper – would know the answer to that?”

“I don’t exactly have Death on speed dial,” Sam said.

“Perhaps ye should. Would save us all a lot of trouble if ye did,” Rowena said.

“Specifically, me,” a woman’s voice, deep and melodic, came from the door and all three turned to stare at the beautiful dark-skinned woman who stepped into the dungeon, hands in her back pockets. She looked at them serenely, a raised eyebrow on her face as she waited for them to react.

“Billie!” Sam exclaimed.

“Hello, Sam,” Billie said, inclining her head. “Rowena. Nick.”

“Who are you?” Nick asked. Rowena and Sam had mentioned Reapers and Death, but this wasn’t Death. This wasn’t the gaunt old man Lucifer had tried to bind to his bidding.

“I’m the new Death, thanks to the Winchesters and their angel,” she said, nodding at Sam.

Sam had the grace to look somewhat guilty about it but pushed on. “So do you have any insight on –“ he waved his hand towards Nick. “-on this?”

“I might,” she said cryptically.

“And?” Sam bit out impatiently. She just stared at him, unperturbed.

“Please,” Nick begged. “I just want to understand what’s going on. How did I get here? And how do I go back?” Back to his Heaven where he still had some vague memories of living the life he’d always dreamed of having with his wife and child.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Heaven is closed for business, and your soul now has a tether,” Billie said, gesturing at him. “All newly dead souls are caught in between, in the veil, since the gates of Heaven were closed. And now that the angels are an endangered species, Heaven’s powering down and Souls are escaping. Most of them have nowhere to go… you’re one of the lucky ones – or not so lucky, depending on your point of view.”

“You mean… I’m _stuck_ like this?” Nick asked, horrified. “I’m stuck in a body that has brought grief and trauma to so, so many that people can’t even _look_ at me without flinching? I’m stuck in a body that cannot die and I’ll never see my loved ones – _my wife and child_ \- again?”

“I’m afraid so,” Billie said sympathetically.

“So that’s really him, not Lucifer pretending?” Sam asked.

“Lucifer is gone, back to the Empty where all angels and demons go. Even Death himself,” Billie said. “And nothing comes back from the Empty.”

“Cas did,” Sam said quietly.

“Castiel is… different. He’s not wholly angel anymore. He’s experienced things no other angel has and maybe never will again. And that,” she paused, “isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

“Yeah but – “ Sam stopped, him, Rowena and Nick staring at the suddenly empty space before them. “Huh. Well, I guess that’s all we’re gonna get out of her.”

The room was quiet as they all processed the new discoveries. Nick was just resigning himself to a fate of living a lonely life filled with suspicion when Sam finally broke the silence.

“So…” he said slowly, “it sounds like after we save Dean, we should find a way to fix Heaven.”

Nicks head shot up incredulously. Fix Heaven? How on earth did Sam think he was even capable of something like that? Yet, he noticed that Rowena was nodding along as if Sam hadn’t just suggested the most ridiculous and impossible task. Were they _both_ crazy? Had losing Dean to Michael driven them over the bend?

“Aye, that does sound like a grand idea,” Rowena answered.

“You’re both insane!” Nick blurted.

Sam and Rowena glanced at him.

“Maybe so, but insane does seem to work around here,” Sam pointed out. He stepped closer to Nick and undid the cuffs. Nick looked down in surprised, then lifted his hands to rub at his wrists. “Now, c’mon. We’ll set you up in your own room. Just… give people time to get used to you being _you._ ”

“And not Lucifer?” Nick said, not daring to look up at Sam.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

“Do you think it wise, then, that I stay here?” Nick asked. “Given all those people I – _he_ – has hurt?”

“Do you think it wise to simply let you go out there?” Sam retorted. “You can’t step into your old life anymore. Nick is dead. Long dead. And besides, if we’re going to solve your problem – which seems to be a symptom of a bigger problem - it might be best to keep you close. You could wind up being the biggest clue we’ve got.”

“You’ve got a point,” Nick said softly.

Rowena patted his arm gently. “Don’t worry. The Winchesters have faced great odds before. If they say they can do it, I’m rather inclined to believe they can.”

Nick thought back to the Apocalypse and realized they were right. They were _both_ right. The Apocalypse had supposedly been unstoppable and yet… yet here they were, the world still standing.

If anyone could do this, it was the Winchesters. And Nick would put his faith in them.

It was either that or go mad.


End file.
